


Bowie's in Bali

by superrich



Series: What Happens on Hiatus [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Beach Holidays, M/M, bali
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2016-03-17
Packaged: 2018-05-27 09:02:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6278104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superrich/pseuds/superrich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s almost midnight in LA when Niall finally calls Harry for his birthday. He’d landed in Bali the night before with Deo and Willie and Martin and Bas, but none of them could work out how to connect to the WiFi network in their clifftop villa. Eventually they’d given up trying. And then this morning they’d gone straight to the beach. It was only when he got back mid-afternoon, all salt-sprayed and pink-tinged, that he’d finally been able to get online.</p><p>Harry answers on the second ring.</p><p>“Niall! I’d almost given up on hearing from you,” Harry says, sounding very happy, very relaxed, and maybe just a little bit drunk.</p><p>[Niall’s in Bali, but his heart might still be in LA.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bowie's in Bali

**Author's Note:**

> So I've decided to make this a series of ficlets very loosely inspired by actual events. Stay tuned throughout the *hiatus* for more instalments.

It’s almost midnight in LA when Niall finally calls Harry for his birthday.

He’d landed in Bali the night before with Deo and Willie and Martin and Bas, but none of them could work out how to connect to the WiFi network in their clifftop villa. Eventually they’d given up trying. And then this morning they’d gone straight to the beach. It was only when he got back mid-afternoon, all salt-sprayed and pink-tinged, that he’d finally been able to get online.

Harry answers on the second ring.

“Niall! I’d almost given up on hearing from you,” he says, sounding very happy, very relaxed, and maybe just a little bit drunk.

“Mate, what time is it there? Still your birthday?” Niall asks.

“Yep, 5 minutes to midnight, you got in just in the nick of time.”

“Saving the best to last, I was. What’s the craic? How’s your birthday been?”

“It’s been grand,” Harry answers, and Niall smiles at the way Harry sometimes slips into little Irish-isms, and wonders if it’s deliberate, or just a side effect of spending so much time together.

“Had a long talk with Mum and Robin this morning, and Gem called this afternoon. Got an extra-special birthday Snapchat from Nick and Pig, dancing around his living room to some new song he’s mad about. And then had dinner with Jeff’s family. Craig cooked this amazing prime rib, and lemon tart for dessert. Smashed a few bottles of really good wine, and Glenne just dropped me home a little while ago. It’s been lovely.”

Niall assumes he means they drunk the wine, but he has seen Harry drop a bottle of Malbec onto a tiled floor on at least one occasion. Harry had moaned for weeks about the new suede boots forever stained burgundy as a result.

“It sounds perfect,” Niall says, as he wanders into the villa kitchen and grabs a Bintang beer from the fridge. The villa is silent, the other boys down for an afternoon nap.

“Well, almost perfect,” Harry says. “I think it would’ve been absolutely perfect if you’d been able to stay in LA just a little bit longer. But getting to talk to you now is a nice consolation prize.”

“Tell me about Bali,” Harry continues. “What’s it like? I’ve always dreamed of going there.”

“Well, we’ve been here less than 24 hours, but from what I’ve seen so far, it’s beautiful. Really beautiful,” Niall says, as he slips outside from the icy cool of the air-conditioned villa, and wanders over to the infinity pool overlooking the ocean.

“Our driver said there’s some sort of festival coming up, kind of like Balinese Christmas, but instead of decorating Christmas trees, everyone decorates these really tall bamboo poles which hang over the streets. I’m doing a rubbish job of describing it, but it’s really pretty.”

“Not at all, it sounds magical,” Harry assures him. “Did you hear that Bowie asked for his ashes to be scattered in Bali?”

“Bowie’s in Bali,” Niall says, slipping into a Ziggy Stardust impression, “whatcha doing out there, man?” They both dissolve into a fit of giggles.

“Nah, I hadn’t heard,” Niall goes on, “but I can understand why. There’s something very spiritual about it. D’you know Jagger came here for his honeymoon?”

“ _Of course_ I know that,” Harry says drolly. “Play your cards right and maybe one day we’ll...”

“Oy!” Niall cuts him off. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Baby steps, please.”

“Sorry,” Harry says softly. “It’s just... I haven’t been able to stop thinking about my party. You kissing me. Me kissing you. Finally, after all this time. And I just feel like, we already know each other _so_ well, I just want to jump ahead 15 steps, you know?”

Niall thinks he knows. But he also knows that both of them have barely made it past about step 3 in a relationship before, so it seems mad to even think about jumping so far ahead.

“Hey Niall,” Harry says softly, sleepily. “Before you go, can I see your face?”

Niall puts his beer down, takes the phone away from his ear, switches it over to a video call, and holds it out in front of him. He runs his fingers through his hair with his other hand, and grins and bares his teeth at the camera, as if he wants Harry to tell him if he has any food stuck in there.

“How do I look?”

“Handsome,” Harry says, smiling fondly. “Ridiculous. Ridiculously handsome.”

Harry looks like he’s already in bed, head resting back on a crisp white pillow with his hair fanned out around him. Niall is about to tell him that he looks like a sleepy baby lion when Harry catches sight of the infinity pool behind Niall.

“Holy shit, Niall! Where are you staying? It looks like a fucking five-star resort.”

“Oh, you know, just a little beach shack I’m renting with the boys,” Niall shrugs, panning his phone around to show Harry the sprawling villa in front of him.

“No way!” Harry laughs. “Here was I thinking you were in some shitty hostel with moldy sheets and horny Scandinavians fucking in the bunk bed above you.”

“Would if I could, mate, but security vetoed it,” Niall shrugs again. “I’m travelling _with_ a backpack, though, so that kind of still counts as backpacking, right?”

Harry just snorts in reply.

“And I’ve been locked out of social media. Not allowed to post a single selfie while I’m travelling. Not sure what I’m going to do with m’self.”

“Well, you can send me all the selfies you want,” Harry says. “I promise they’re safe with me.”

Niall smiles and nods.

“So safe, in fact, that if you wanted to send a few naked selfies my way...”

Niall grins and rolls his eyes. “Baby steps, Harry.”

“OK, I’m going to let you go, ‘cause you look you look like you’re about three seconds away from nodding off and dropping your phone on your face.”

Harry’s eyes are already drooping shut.

“Happy birthday, Harry. Love you.”

“Love you too, Ni. Don’t forget to wear sunscreen.”

Niall laughs as he puts his phone down. And then thinks, oh shit. Saying I love you is normally about step 10 in a relationship, right? They’ve been doing it for years already, for as long as he can remember. He pulls his t-shirt over his head, dives head first into the pool, and tries not to think about coming back to Bali on a honeymoon with his own personal baby Jagger.

∞∞∞∞∞

The lads head out in the late afternoon to watch the sunset from a clifftop bar in Ulawatu, on the very southwest tip of the island. In the ocean far down below there must be at least 30 surfers still out in the swell. It looks like a serious reef break, Niall thinks, not the sort of waves that Payno and Tommo like to mess around in.

The sun sinks slowly, and then very quickly, into the liquid horizon, and then the smattering of clouds are lit up in a riot of neon orange and pink, the sort of sunset you want to hashtag with #NOFILTER in capital letters so people will believe it’s real. Niall snaps a quick pic of himself with the brilliant sky behind him, and sends it to Harry: _Non-naked selfie no. 1 *smiley face*._

The surfers drift into shore as the last light drains from the sky, until there are just a few inky figures still out there, hungry for one last wave before calling it a day. Niall’s never seriously considered surfing, not sure he has the upper body strength for it, but right now he appreciates the beauty of being out there in the radiantly warm, tropical water, consumed by a singular drive to chase the perfect wave.

He wonders if it’s the same sort of thing he feels about playing guitar, about music. How he loses track of time when he’s working on a new song, searching for the perfect combination of lyrics and melody. Whether the thrill of riding an epic wave into shore is like the thrill he gets from standing in front of stadium full of fans. Whether he’ll ever find another passion as electrifying as performing, and if he doesn’t, how’s he going to get through the hiatus without feeling like he’s just killing time, ticking off the days until everyone’s ready to regroup.

Some of the surfers come up to the bar, all barefoot and bronzed, and it’s not long before the Irish lads have made fast friends with them all. Mostly guys their own age, from Australia, New Zealand, South Africa, Brazil. The sunny hemisphere, Niall thinks, although he knows from experience it can get bitterly cold down there too, depending on the season.

The best thing is, none of these guys have any idea who he is. He’s not Niall from One Direction, he’s just Niall from Mullingar. Just a stupid, normal Irish lad, backpacking around southeast Asia with a few of his best mates. And his bodyguard. He wonders if they can keep this up for the next month. Despite the fact there are literally millions of One Direction fans in Indonesia alone, maybe, just maybe, he really can blend in with all of the other bros on holiday. He buys a round of Bintangs for the lads and their new friends, and leads them in a toast to normal lads, having the time of their lives.

∞∞∞∞∞

Later that night, back at the villa, they polish off almost a whole bottle of duty free whiskey, and end up in the pool, playing some sort of version of drunken water polo, although no one can agree on the rules.

At some point Niall swims down to the far end of the pool, rests his arms on the infinity edge, pillowing his chin, and stares out into the vast ocean in front of him. There must be a storm out at sea, lightning occasionally shuddering far off in the distance.

Deo drifts down to join him. “Mate, you alright?” he asks. “You’ve seemed a bit... distracted... since you got back from LA.”

“Nah, I’m grand,” Niall says casually, turning to look at Deo. Then blurts out, “I kissed Harry.”

Deo opens his mouth wide in surprise, and looks like he’s about to say something, but stops himself.

“And I liked it,” Niall adds.

“The taste of his cherry chapstick?” Deo asks, and they both laugh, a little nervously, but enough to cut the tension.

“Something like that. Should I be having a big gay crisis now? Bi crisis? Christ, I don’t even know what sort of crisis I should be having.”

“Hey mate,” Deo says, reaching out to pat Niall on the back. “It’s 2016. I think you can skip straight over the crisis, if you want to.” He rubs Niall’s back reassuringly. “You know we’re all going to love you no matter what. And you and Harry are... I mean, there’s always been a pretty special connection between the two of you, y’know?”

Niall nods. He really does know.

“I’m kind of relieved, actually,” Deo adds.

Niall raises an eyebrow at him.

“It means I don’t have to compete against him for who’s your best mate,” Deo continues. “I’m your best mate, Harry can be your boyfriend. If that’s what you want. Is that you want?”

Niall nods, vigorously.

“Come here,” Deo says, pulling him into a watery hug. “Any time you want to talk about it, I’m here. And if you don’t want to talk about it, I’m here for you too.”

And then he dunks Niall underwater and swims away before Niall can retaliate.

∞∞∞∞∞

Niall wakes up in the morning with a wicked hangover, and a string of WhatsApp messages from Harry, starting with a photo of (what he assumes are) Harry’s feet in fancy boots, standing on the geometrically-tiled floor of his terrace, a cup of coffee in his left hand.

_Selamat pagi!_

_That means good morning._

_In Indonesian._

_Maybe you know that already?_

_I had to look it up._

_Have a lovely day x H_

Later that morning Niall asks their driver, Ketut, how to say ‘thanks, dork’ in Indonesian, and texts that back to Harry, without any translation.

∞∞∞∞∞

They go to a monkey forest, hundreds of monkeys living in a temple surrounded by nutmeg trees, and Niall records a little clip of two monkeys picking nits out of each other’s hair. When he gets back to the villa that night he sends it to Harry: _Remind you of anyone we know ? *winky face emoji* *monkey emoji* *heart emoji*._

He wakes up to a message from Harry, a black and white photo of a huge billboard in a prime position on Sunset advertising Zayn’s album release: _Remind you of someone we used to know?_

It hits Niall like a punch to the stomach, and he wishes he knew how Harry was feeling. Angry? Sad? Maybe just a little jealous? Niall texts back a single tear emoji.

They climb a volcano in the dark and watch the sunrise burn through the mist, clutching cups of bitter black coffee to stay warm. Niall takes a selfie with the volcano crater smoking behind him, a Rams beanie pulled over his head with the tiniest wisp of blonde fringe peeking out. He sends it to Harry that night: _On top of the world ! Or at least on top of Batur volcano. *Mt Fuji emoji* *praise hands emoji* *smiley face emoji*._

He wakes up to a message from Harry, a photo of Jeff drinking a green juice in his office, with a view of the Hollywood Hills out the floor-to-ceiling windows behind him: _On top of Century City!_

Niall wonders which record label Harry and Jeff have been meeting with today.

They go whitewater rafting. They go snorkeling at a WWII shipwreck. They go swimming with manta rays. They go cliff diving. They go mountain biking. They go golfing on a course overlooking the sea, but it’s too hot to be under the sun and they abandon the game after 9 holes. Each night Niall sends Harry a selfie from the day’s adventures just before he falls asleep, and each morning he wakes up to a new message from Harry. But never a selfie.

They go to a hipster motorbike shop/bar surrounded by rice paddies, where an order of three tacos comes with a side of a free tattoo, if you want it. The tattoo artist set up in a corner has a steady stream of customers all night, and for a hot minute Niall contemplates getting the tattoo he’s been talking about. He takes a selfie with the Tacos ‘n’ Tat-Tuesday sign behind him, and sends it to Harry: _almost got a tattoo tonight ! but chickened out *baby chick emoji* *scared face emoji*._

He gets a reply from Harry almost instantly: _don’t get a tattoo without me. I want to hold your hand._

10 minutes later Harry sends a photo of a new tattoo Niall hasn’t seen before, a lightning bolt inked just below his left hip. It looks like he’s taken the picture lying on his bed, his shorts pulled down very low, and all Niall can think about is how much he wants to pull them down even further and get at what’s underneath them.

∞∞∞∞∞

Driving back to the villa on their last night in Bali, they slow down to pass some sort of ceremony half-blocking the narrow road. Ketut explains that it’s for a funeral, that tomorrow a body will be burned inside the ornately-decorated, larger-than-life figure of a buffalo which has been built specially for the occasion. It’s certainly prettier than a coffin, Niall thinks. It wouldn’t be the worst way to go. And then he mentions to the boys that Bowie’s ashes are being scattered in Bali, and they decide that it would only be fitting to have a Bowie tribute back at the villa.

Willie pulls up the Best of Bowie playlist on Spotify, while Deo rounds up all of the half-empty bottles of duty free alcohol and takes them out to the pool, with a set of shot glasses. Rebel, Rebel come blasting through the villa’s sound system.

Many shots later, they’re all lying on the pool lounges, talking over each other, but it doesn’t really matter who is saying what, because everyone feels the same way about Bowie.

“What a fucking legend.”

“An icon.”

“There’ll only ever be one Bowie.”

“But what if his ashes have already been scattered? What if we’re _breathing_ Bowie in right this very second?”

Niall jumps up from the pool lounge, throws his arms up in the air, tilts his head back, and breathes the night in deeply, hoping to capture a speck of Bowie’s hypothetical ashes. Just a speck would be enough. Just a speck would be incredible.

∞∞∞∞∞

Buzzed from too many shots and too many emotions stirred up about fame, legacy and mortality, Niall strips naked when he enters his bedroom that night. He starts pulling himself hard as he grabs his phone from the bedside table. In the en suite bathroom he adjusts the lighting to his satisfaction, and snaps a photo of himself in the full length mirror, skinny legs set wide, cock in hand and chest puffed out, careful to not capture his face in the shot. Plausible deniability. He’s silently grateful for his lack of identifying tattoos or superfluous nipples.

He sends the photo to Harry: _baby steps *eggplant emoji*._

He finishes pulling himself off under the rainfall showerhead, thinking of Harry the whole time.

After drying himself off, he checks his phone to find six new messages in reply.

_You’re incredible._

_Can’t wait to get my hands on every part of you._

_Already deleted from my phone._

_But forever burned in my memory._

_(In the best possible way)._

_Love you x H_

∞∞∞∞∞

Just before they board their flight the next morning, Niall gets another message from Harry, a photo of a Scrabble board with a jumble of letters which make absolutely no sense to Niall. He’s pretty sure they’d still make no sense even without the cracking hangover he’s nursing.

He watches the dots as Harry composes a string of follow-up messages.

_That means I miss you and I love you._

_In Tagalog._

_Tagalog is the national language of the Philippines._

_I had to look that up._

_And then Rosa helped me with the translation._

_Have you met Rosa?_

_She’s my new housekeeper._

_She’s Filipino._

_She’s very lovely._

_Have a wonderful time in the Philippines._

_Looking forward to more selfies from you. *winking face emoji*_

Niall’s breath catches as he sees the emoji. It’s the first time he can remember Harry ever using one.

Niall doesn’t know how to say ‘thanks, dork’ in Tagalog, but he’ll ask someone when he gets to Boracay.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not on Tumblr but I am on Instagram. Come talk to me there:  
> [super.rich.lads](http://www.instagram.com/super.rich.lads)


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